Spontaneous Poems

Hey that was pretty good. That happened to me a few times, and I decided it's better to play smart instead of bluff. Of course, you don't know when the other person is bluffing and there's always the temptation to find out...

Thanks Ray - it was fun to write. Yeah, temptation is always an attractive option (that's why it's tempting ), and there's absolutely nothing wrong with bluffing, especially in poker, that's pretty much the name of the game. But it's also important to play with a fair deck, remember the rules of the game you're playing - and even who started the game and why- when it doesn't turn out the way you planned.

I think the best poker players are curious and competitive, but cautious enough to know when to call it a day. That's why women are often pretty good. They're good at reading faces and situations that might go right over a man's head. But that's a subject for one of Spendi's "war between the sexes" threads. (Maybe he'll restart that sheep thread).

"It's the bad kind of blue" she says
a colour
she is talking about indigo
a little kid in a jean mini-skirt
and she knows a bad kind of blue.

off the carribean blue
i sighted a whale or two
they ran around the boat a while
i stayed beside them for most a mile

whales are beings who spout off at times
but i don't know if they speak in prose or rymes
i only know their smile is huge
and that their teeth are all one views

Up on the moors at night
Looking out over fields
Lit by a giant moon
Sitting by the stones
Where Britons defended
England
In their thousands
From the madness
Of the Romans
Caradoc taken
Round houses
Squared
Roads blown straight
All the way to Rome

I love your rhyme patterns. You are truly talented.

Excuse me my friend,
I'm lost don't know where I am,
May I have a paper and pen,
Just to write where I am,
So I can find my way home again,

Thanks for the pen sir,
I'll remember your name,
When I'm home with my family and friends,
When I'm home again,

The hate as it boils,
Disrespect for his toils,
If only murder weren't a crime,

son they'll make you fodder
for their never ending war
they wont even stutter
to demand your life end more

your ideal of justice
they will wave it to the side
hiding neath the auspice
of nationalistic pride

no loyal opposition
can survive without a fight
idyllic supposition
gonna bend before their might

take it into the street
and to the government halls
and demand a ballot sheet
that no politician soils

in the course of human events
dross got to be swept away
when they play games with your sense
dont be treated that a-way

the ghosts of the flowers
dot your memory in our absense
the leaves of the hours
hang their shadows over the fence
in shapes of tears

oh dark angel of the field of loss
where shall i plant this dangling cross
where slant the ague with sorrow drenched
where slam the rainbow like a fist thats clenched
or splay this heart of fears

Edgarblythe, your poem really hit me
strong symbolism
powerful stuff

Hi, Endy. Hope you have a nice week end.

I'm going to try :wink:

Have a good one yourself

Listen to the cosmic night,
The black abyss,
Absence of light,
Listen to the cosmic night,
It will guide us home,

Look for the saving light,
The stars aligned,
The moon so bright
Look for the saving light,
To find where we belong,

If only everyone turned gray,
The racial slurs would stop today,
No fighting or useless play,
If only everyone were gray,

Please read the ancient text,
I need to find out very soon,
I need to know what happens next,

Please read the ancient lore,
I'd like to know,
Let us hear more,

Excuse me sir,
I think I'm lost,
May I have a pen?
I'd like to know where I am,
To write it down again,

Oh sure you can,
Here you go,
You can keep it, too
Just please return your thanks to me,
And I'll give you mine, too

Thank you sir,
You're to kind,
To help out a stranger,
But I must be going,
I have a train to catch,
I think I cannot linger,

Mornin', Bawb. You're mighty prolific today.

Morning. Yes, I had a bit of inspiration.